


24 Frames

by aveyune23



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Background Plot, Cassian’s room is a safe space, Did I Mention Angst?, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Scarif through the end of A New Hope, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Bed, Survivor Guilt, it has a happy ending i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-13 10:24:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9119533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aveyune23/pseuds/aveyune23
Summary: “We should have died,” she said.“I know.”She held his gaze, trying to say with a look what she couldn't with words. He had to know that he was the only one who would understand.Scarif. The elevator. The tribute ceremony. The drinking. The night. The plans. All of it jumbled around her head, making it impossible to focus on just one thing. And there he was, watching with those dark eyes that seemed to really, truly see her.“What do we do?” she asked, not even knowing what she was asking about anymore.He sighed, weariness heavy on his shoulders.“I don't know.”Following their rescue from Scarif, Jyn and Cassian struggle to come to terms with their second chance at life, and discover that their only constants are each other.





	1. Alone, Pt. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing fics back in the *cough*year2002*cough*, when the most standard form of fic was the “songfic.” Back then you literally put every single word from an entire song into a oneshot fic, with the lyrics interspersed (in italics naturally) throughout the plot. Those were the first kinds of stories that I wrote. Naturally, I occasionally still think in terms of “songfic.”
> 
> SO — When Spotify released playlists for Cassian and Jyn, my little songfic brain got VERY excited.
> 
> This story is formed around lyrics from the songs found on their respective playlists. The chapter titles are the titles of the songs whose lyrics are located in the chapter summaries.
> 
> Behold: the modern songfic.
> 
> Please enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You come into the world alone, and you go out of the world alone, but in between, there's you and me."_

It was customary to pay tribute to fallen soldiers after any skirmish, large or small. The Rebel Alliance would gather in the hangars on Yavin IV and raise a glass of whatever rot-gut was on hand and drink to those whom they had lost. 

Cassian Andor had done it plenty of times.

It was just that this time he would have put credits on it being his face projected on the holos.

He glanced around the hangar at the faces, every one of them solemn and drawn tight. They had lost many -- it would be a long night.

The first shot went down like poison -- to Gold Squadron, another to Red -- those who had fought to bring down the Destoyers and that damn gate. The third drunk -- for Blue Squadron, the pilots that had fought on Scarif itself. By the fourth (in honor of the rebels dropped on the ground by the few U-wing transports that had reached the surface), his throat was starting to burn. But he knew that there were more to go, and the worst had been saved for last.

To the brave souls of Rogue One, who had volunteered for their suicide mission -- drink.

Cassian looked away from the holos to find the one face he’d been searching for the entire night, but she was nowhere to be seen. He frowned, and took a drink.

Mon Mothma gave a speech that he only half-listened to. His eyes furiously scanned the crowd -- where was she? He hadn’t seen her since they had been rescued off that forsaken beach, right before he went into shock from his injuries and passed out. He didn’t know if she had been to see him while he was in the med bay -- he had spent the better part of a day suspended in a bacta tank, unconscious. When he had woken up, Bodhi had been in the bed next to him, but he hadn’t seen her either.

Cassian frowned. Where was she?

He searched the faces until he spotted Bodhi, clutching a glass in his shaking hands. Cassian pushed his way through the crowd to reach him, touching his shoulder and making the pilot jump.

“Have you seen Jyn?” he asked without preamble. Bodhi’s wide eyes flinched. Still in shock, Cassian thought, and forced himself to relax his expression.

“No,” Bodhi said, fidgeting with his drink. “I think -- I saw her head to the barracks, I think they assigned her a bunk--”

Cassian nodded and gave the man’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.” Bodhi gave him a weak and shaky smile.

Cassian knew where she would be now, and he knew why she would want to be alone. It was the same reason that he wanted to drink. But all of his years as a Rebel had taught him one thing: never drink alone.

Apparently she had never learned that lesson, because when he found her in the women’s barracks a while later, she was nursing a bottle of god knows what, her eyes red and puffy.

“Jyn?”

She jumped high enough to hit her head on the bed above the one she’d been sitting on. She cursed loudly and turned to glare at him, but when she saw his face, her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed.

“What do you want?” she snapped, but there was no heat behind it.

He brandished the flask he was carrying. “May I join you?”

She watched him for a moment, and then showed him her own smuggled bottle of liquor. “If you want,” she said. The sentence had only the slightest slur -- she either hadn’t been drinking long, or her tolerance was high. It was probably the latter, but she wouldn’t last long drinking the shit that she had gotten on base.

He stepped around the bunk and took a seat opposite her on the next bed. The bunks were spaced close enough that his knee bumped hers. They both ignored it -- or at least acted that way.

“You missed the ceremony,” he said, not really expecting a response. When she didn’t offer one, he added, “People were asking for you.”

“I’m fresh out of speeches, thank you,” she said to her bottle before taking a generous swig. Her face screwed up, and then she swallowed.

“Me too,” he said, and clinked his drink against hers. “It’s not good to drink alone, you know.” She made a noise deep in her throat, something like a scoff, accompanied by a roll of her eyes.

“Take it from a professional,” he continued, and took a swig. God, this stuff was awful. She eyed him with tentative curiosity, and took another drink herself, grimacing again. Cassian smirked.

“Where did you get that?”

“Out of a U-wing,” was her short reply. When she offered no further response, he pressed harder.

“Have you been to the med bay?”

She stared more intently at her bottle.

“Chirrut and Baze are well,” he said. “They’ve been asking for you.”

She looked like all she wanted to do was disappear. Cassian didn’t blame her. He felt that way too.

“Jyn --”

“Don’t,” she said, curling around her bottle. “Just don’t.”

His brows drew together, but he kept his face impassive.

“Alright.” And he took another drink.

She eyed him from under her lashes. “What do you want?”

He shrugged. “Checking on a team mate.”

Her eyes narrowed, but to him she looked… disappointed?

“How’s Bodhi?”

“You could ask him yourself.”

She pursed her lips, not meeting his eyes.

“Jyn--”

“Don’t!” she snapped. “I don’t want to hear it!” She stared straight at him, eyes ablaze and, he realized, shiny with tears. He reached out to touch her hand, but she snatched it away and stood up, stepping away from the bunks. He stood with her.

“Go away, Cassian,” she said in a stiff voice. He frowned.

“Jyn --”

“Please.” Her voice shook, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes again. He watched her as she stood there with her whole body tensed, ready to dart like a scared animal.

Carefully -- slowly, so slowly -- he reached out a hand. Not to touch her, but to take the bottle from her shaking hands. It was very empty. “It’s all right,” he said, keeping his voice low. “You’re all right.”

She shook her head, strands of her hair coming loose from the knot she tied it in. She let him take the bottle, and he set it on the floor. When he straightened, there were tears rolling down her cheeks.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, he caught himself thinking about how beautiful she looked.

“I’m not leaving you,” he said quietly. Her lips quivered, and he stepped closer, his fingers reaching out to brush against hers. Her breath caught. “Jyn…”

“I can’t stop seeing them,” she whispered. “Their faces --”

“I know.” He twined his fingers with hers, giving her every chance to pull away, but she gripped them tight. Her other hand came up to wipe at the tears on her face, and he caught it. “It’s all right.”

“No,” she insisted in a small voice. “No. They didn’t have to die…”

He knew that she wouldn’t be thinking these things had she been sober. She had fought and lost before. This was nothing new to her. But he knew the feeling. Sometimes drinking was the only way to feel the loss at all.

“I know,” he told her, and her shoulders began to shake. She leaned forward, and he opened his arms and pulled her tight against him. She broke then, body tense with silent sobs.

All he could do was hold her and wait for it to pass.

He used to mourn this way, too, in the beginning. And if he was honest, he would admit that he still did sometimes, alone in his room.

Her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt as she wept. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head and held on for dear life, just like she was.

After a while her crying eased, and she began to pull away, but he was reluctant to let her go. She turned her face up to his, eyes red and cheeks stained. He brushed a thumb across her face, unable to help himself. He blamed it on the drink. Her eyes fluttered shut.

“Cassian,” she breathed. 

He would give up his life to hear her say his name like that one more time. And then he realized that he very nearly had.

“Please…”

He cupped her face in his hands, forehead pressed against hers to keep his head from swimming. “Anything.”

She opened her eyes and looked, it seemed, straight into his soul.

“Don’t leave me.”

A smirk touched the corners of his lips before he gently pressed them to hers.

“Never.”


	2. Alone, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"The days and nights are killing me, the light and dark are still in me, but there's an anchor on the beach, so let the wind blow hard."_

She held on for dear life.

She'd been doing that a lot lately. A landing platform on Eadu, a data column and then a crumbling comm tower on Scarif. Her hands had come out bloodied every time.

But she was clinging to something else tonight.

The only thing that stuck out from the fog was a pair of lips, soft against hers. She was aware of her hands, fingers twisted in rough fabric. It felt familiar, like she had dreamed it before, but the smell was different, something sharp that singed her throat instead of --

Her eyes snapped open and she jerked away from the thing that she had been holding, but it caught her --

"Jyn!" The voice was soft but insistent. "Jyn, it's alright!"

The world snapped into focus. It was moonshine, not blood, that she smelled. Not blaster residue or burned flesh. Her eyes cleared to see Cassian -- it had been Cassian, not...

"I --" she stuttered, "I'm sorry, I don't --" Everything came flooding back: Rogue One, Scarif, the plans. The destruction and the dead bodies --

A hand cupped her face, a calloused thumb ran across her cheek. Another was perched on her hip, light and hesitant. Her head was spinning...

"Jyn," he said, and her eyes met his with difficulty. He wouldn't stay in focus. Everything was coming back too fast. The tribute ceremony, the liquor...

"Oh god," she moaned, and brought a hand to her head as fresh tears threatened to spill over.

"Shh," he murmured, and she went willingly into his embrace. Her mind flashed to memories from only days ago, on a beach --

Her hands gripped his arms and she pulled away to look at him. His brows were knit together over dark eyes, and she felt like drowning in them. Maybe she already was.

As she swam towards the surface, she realized that the only thing that felt solid beneath her feet was him.

"Cassian..."

He held her face in his hands, his forehead touching hers. His breath was warm on her lips. Memories again, of an elevator...

She had thought that she was going to die, then. And she felt like dying now. Maybe she should have, the both of them, back on Scarif.

"I'm here," he said, and he was. He was _here_ , before her, in her hands.

So many had left. So many had abandoned her.

He said he wouldn't leave, and she desperately wanted to believe him.

She brought her lips to his, pressed them hard until she couldn't feel her teeth, until she felt like she would bruise. His mouth was hot under hers. He tasted like white liquor and sweat, and she held on for dear life.

She kissed him like she had kissed him in the elevator on Scarif: like they had nothing left. And what did they have left?

 _Each other_ , a voice whispered.

Well, if that was what she had, then she would possess it, body and soul.

His hands gripped her waist, gentle at first until she pressed harder against his lips, and then his fingers dug in. It lit a fire inside of her, making her suck in a breath and wrap her arms right around his shoulders.

In her pain, she allowed herself to feel. She wanted to crawl out of her skin and into his. They should have died.

They should have been dead.

She wanted to devour him, to take every bit of life out of him until she finally felt like she was alive herself. And he seemed more than willing to oblige. His hands twisted in the fabric of her shirt, fingers digging into the skin underneath. His mouth burned, and she opened hers to his to taste the pain on his tongue.

She was only half-aware of what was going on around them. He was the one that pulled away first, slightly out of breath. His lips were swollen and his hair was standing a bit on end. Jyn stared up at him in confusion. She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong, but she was interrupted by the hiss of the door at the end of the barracks and voices shortly after.

Cassian cursed under his breath and his hand went to his hair in an attempt to smooth it down. A giggle slipped out of her mouth and she slapped a hand over it. It was enough to make the frown on his face disappear. In fact, it transformed into a sheepish grin that she had never seen before, and she felt her stomach flip. He took her hand and jerked his head towards the door at the other end of the barracks. She nodded and let him lead her out before the others could see.

They stumbled into a deserted hallway and he pulled her into an alcove, smoothing her hair away from her face.

"Is this -- is this okay?" He looked nervous. Jyn wished that he hadn't stopped to ask. But she nodded anyway -- the fog was starting to thin and images were showing through. Images she didn't want to think about until morning. So she kissed him again, trying to smother the feeling, but he gently pushed her away again. 

"Please," she said. "I don't-- I need --"

And she knew that he saw that she _did_.

"You're drunk," he said carefully.

She frowned. "So are you."

"I know. That's the problem."

She looked at her hands, which were pressed against his chest. "Cassian, I don't think... I don't want to be alone right now. I can't--"

"I know." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled her close. She closed her eyes, trying to keep her head from spinning. He seemed to be thinking about something, because he didn't speak for a few moments. But then he stiffened, and she heard voices down the hall, and he grabbed her hand and pulled her away.

She couldn't keep track of the turns they took, but she knew that she was in a part of the bunker that she'd never visited before. She stumbled along after him, beginning to curse how much she had drank, until he stopped in front of a door and scanned it open. He glanced both ways down the hall before bringing her inside.

She didn't notice much about the room except that it was sparse, and that the bed against the wall looked incredibly inviting.

She didn't ask. She simply toed off her boots and peeled off her vest and sat down. Cassian shut the door and leaned back against it, watching her. A pregnant silence hung between them.

"You can stay here tonight," he said. "If you want."

She was having a hard time keeping him in focus. The room was spinning and the lights seemed too bright. All she felt was bone-deep exhaustion. Whatever fire had been lit inside of her had burned out -- all that was left were a few grey embers that smouldered in her chest. She met his eyes, dark and deep-set, and sighed.

"Thank you." She expected him to move, but he stayed at the door. He seemed intent on watching her, waiting for her to make the next move. 

"Cassian," she said quietly, "lay down with me."

He moved like he was in a trance, slowly removing his jacket and his boots before coming to sit next to her on the bed. She laid her head on his shoulder, and she felt his hand rest on her waist.

"I'm so tired," she breathed, and she felt him kiss the top of her head.

"Lay down," he told her, and she went willingly.

"Stay with me?" she asked before the world went dark. She felt him lay beside her and pull her close, and his lips found her shoulder.

"Sleep," he told her. "I'll be here."

The last thought she had before the darkness took her was that she really, truly believed him.


	3. Panic Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"I still sleep on the right side of the white noise, can't leave the scene behind."_

She came to slowly, emerging from warm and safe depths, but when she reached the surface, she was met with a headache so fierce she felt like her skull was about to split. She groaned and put her head in her hands. Her mouth had that sweet, sticky feeling that only came after a night with a bottle, and her stomach was churning. Oh god, what had she drank?

It took her a moment to piece everything together. The ceremony, the pilfered bottle of liquor, Cassian --

Her eyes shot open. The room was dark, and she couldn’t make out the walls, but she knew where she was, and it wasn’t her barracks.

“Low lights,” she croaked, and a lamp across the room glowed. It was dim, but it still made her head ache. She sat up and squinted around the tiny room.

She was alone.

She was relieved, really. If he had been here when she had woken up, she would have died of embarrassment. As it was, she still felt like dying.

She added “embarrassment” and “this hangover” to her list of reasons she wanted to be dead. She tried not to think of the rest of the list.

_One shame at a time, Jyn._

Shaking her head to disperse the thoughts (horrible idea), she took stock. Clothes still on, which was good. She wasn’t quite sure how far things had gone last night. She remembered kissing him. They had done a lot of it, in fact, and she blushed just thinking about how it had made her feel. But it hadn’t gone farther than that, she was sure.

She rubbed a hand over her face and tried to keep her eyes open long enough against the light to examine the room. She was glad that she did, because the first thing she discovered was a cup of caf and a painkiller tablet on the table next to the bed.

She almost cried in relief. The caf was still warm, and the pill worked almost immediately. She tried not to think of how considerate the gesture had been, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

Her head feeling a bit better, she sipped on the caf and studied the quarters. There were two doors on the far side of the room: one looked like a closet since the door was small; the other was likely the door to the refresher. There was a desk with a data pad and the lamp, and the bed that she was sitting on, and that was it. Very sparse. Very Cassian.

Feeling like she’d be able to stay standing, she got out of the bed and went to the desk. The data pad was passcode protected, so she ignored it. The closet was unlocked, so she opened it and ran her hands across the shirts and the spare jacket, breathing in the crisp scent of them. She went into the refresher, took a look at the comb and the toothbrush and ended up looking at herself in the tiny mirror.

She’d looked worse, but she splashed some water over her face anyway. It helped wake her up enough to focus on her next problem: leaving the room without getting caught.

There was really no helping it -- the only option was to simply walk out the door and hope no one saw her. It was a risk she had to take. If she waited for Cassian to come back (and she could) it would only look more incriminating if they walked out together.

 _Damn_ , she thought, then gulped down the rest of the caf and went to the door. She stuck her ear against it and listened, but the metal was thick; still, she didn't hear any voices on the other side.

She pulled on her boots and put her vest back on and smoothed down her hair, then took a deep breath and walked out the door.

The hall was empty -- first problem solved. The next obstacle lie in that she wasn't quite sure where in the bunker she was. She had been well on her way to wasted when Cassian had brought her here the night before. She mentally cursed him.

 _Brings me caf but no directions_ , she thought.

Well, left or right? The bunker was a maze. She frowned. Left, then, for all it mattered. She walked quickly, glancing side to side every time she came to another hallway, hoping something would start to look familiar.

What ended up helping her was the smell of cooking rations floating from a hallway to her right. She breathed a sigh of relief and headed down the hall.

As she neared the cafeteria she began to pass other people. All of the ones that recognized her gave her sad looks that she wished she could ignore. Every glance seemed accusatory to her, even though the rational part of her mind recognized it as pity. Some were speaking in whispers as she passed, and she wondered why, but it left her thoughts as soon as she smelled food.

The mess hall wasn't very full. Jyn glanced at the clock on the wall. It was well past the designated morning meal time, but there were a few people scattered around the tables, most of them looking like she felt: horribly hungover. At least she wasn't the only one that was miserable.

She found a plate and put something on it -- a nameless lump of bottom-rack rations that looked nowhere near appetizing. But she had eaten worse in even worse places, so she found a seat and took a bite.

Terrible.

She sighed and dropped her fork. Glancing around, she tried to make a plan. She supposed she was officially a part of the Alliance now, though she had intended her valiant streak to be a one-time occurrence. A wave of fresh guilt washed over her.

She considered leaving -- just stealing a craft and going. Anywhere. But she knew that wasn't an option. It had never really been an option to begin with, but it especially wasn't one now. She was a Face now -- she had done something important, something pivotal, and she would never be able to escape it.

Besides, if she felt guilty now, how would she feel then? The faces of people she knew flashed before her minds eye, people that trusted her. Liked her, even. Bodhi. Baze and Chirrut.

She frowned. She hadn't seen any of them since -- well, since Scarif, really. Two, three days? It hurt her to realize that she wasn't quite sure where she would find them. She put her head in her hands. There was a voice whispering, _you were brave before, why not now?_

The voice sounded frustratingly like one Cassian Andor. Worse still was that she knew the voice was right. 

She stood abruptly and dumped her tray at the disposal counter. No sense in running away now.

She was on her way to the med bay when she was stopped by an officer she didn't recognize.

“Sergeant Erso,” it said. “You are to report to the main Briefing Room. Orders from High Command.”

“What?”

“Follow me, please.”

She had no choice but to do as she was told.

00000

The Briefing Room looked much like it did the first time she had been there, with the same people. They were all sitting around the table wearing identical expressions. Her eyes scanned the room and found who she'd been looking for. Cassian was leaning against a data station, the same as he had when he had first interrogated her, what -- a week ago? Longer? She met his eyes, but his face was blank and unreadable.

“Sergeant Erso,” said Mon Mothma. “Please, have a seat.”

She sat. “What's going on?” she asked. Those in High Command glanced at each other. It was was Mothma who spoke.

“We've asked you to come because we have received some… news.”

Cassian shifted, and Jyn waited.

It was General Draven that dropped the bombshell.

“We received a transmission yesterday from the _Tantive IV_ ," he said. “An SOS.”

Jyn frowned, not quite understanding. Cassian, on the other hand, stepped forward, unfolding his arms.

“An SOS?”

“A distress call was sent out by Captain Antilles. The ship was overtaken by an Imperial Star Destroyer,” Draven continued.

Cassian’s face went white. Jyn’s frown deepened.

“What does this ship have to do with me?” she asked, and all eyes turned to her. Cassian turned and walked away from the table, his hand over his eyes.

“The _Tantive IV_ was carrying the plans, Sergeant Erso. The plans you acquired.”

Her stomach dropped.

“I'm sorry?”

Chancellor Mothma’s expression was soft but sad. “Captain Antilles’ ship was the one that escaped the battle of Scarif with the data you transmitted. They were on their way to deliver the plans to us.”

“I don't -- what --?” Her mind was skipping around, trying to grasp onto something. The plans, a Destroyer?

“What happened to them?” Cassian asked.

General Dodonna shook his head. “We received no further transmission.”

Jyn knew she was opening and closing her mouth like a fish, but she was having trouble processing their words. The plans that she -- they -- had nearly died for -- captured? A fury started to boil inside of her. How could they have let this happen? But one look around the table told her that there was no sense in being angry at them. They were just as helpless as she was.

“Who knows?” Cassian asked. She felt a wave of gratitude towards him. At least one of them was still capable of speech.

Draven said, “Alliance Command. Currently only need-to-know personnel. But --”

“We felt it best you were informed,” Mothma finished.

Jyn felt out of breath. Her head was spinning and she couldn't find anything to keep her eyes on to make it stop. She turned her head to look at Cassian. He looked collected, but Jyn could tell that he was crumbling inside.

“You're both dismissed,” Draven told them. Jyn stood as if in a trance and walked towards the door. She felt Cassian behind her, and when the door shut, he came to stand next to her.

“What do we do?” she asked him. He kept his eyes on the wall in front of him.

“I don't know,” he said. There was an edge of pain to his voice. She glanced down and saw that his hands were clenched into fists. Without thinking, she reached out and put her hand around his. It made him snap his eyes to hers. What she saw there was an intense grief, and she knew it was echoed in her own eyes. His free hand came up as if to touch her face, but someone walked by and it dropped like lead back to his side. They took a step apart.

All of the things she had been feeling that morning seemed buried under the weight of the report she had just been given. She was wanted to run, to hide. Cassian looked like he felt the same way.

“Maybe we should…” but the words died on his lips.

Jyn swallowed. Despite the weight, earlier thoughts were managing to surface just by being around him.

“Talk?” she offered. He glanced down at her and nodded.

She followed him out of the bunker into the blinding sunlight. Rebels ran the length of the tarmac, pilots and ships coming and going on various missions -- were they all now futile?

He led her into the jungle, down a near-invisible path that ended in a pile of rubble. Each block was twice as tall as he was and three times as wide -- remnants of another long-gone temple. He turned when he reached the nearest stone, fixing her with weary eyes. 

“Thanks for the caf,” was all she could think of to say.

A ghost of a smile graced his mouth and he looked at his feet.

“I figured if you woke up feeling like I had, you would want it.”

Her lips twitched into a smile that quickly disappeared.

“Jyn, about last night --”

“I'm sorry,” she blurted out. “I didn't mean to --”

His brows drew together. “To what?”

She fumbled for words. “To -- to get… drunk.”

He shrugged, but said nothing. She stared at him, and then at her feet. Everything she had thought of saying to him this morning was gone. 

“What do we do?” she asked again, but this time she wasn't talking about the Rebellion.

“I don't know.”

She looked up at him, expecting him to have his usual blank expression-- that spy’s face that never betrayed what he was thinking. But to her surprise, he was staring at her with a look on his face that she recognized from the night before: longing.

She stepped closer to him. She had always been drawn to him like a magnet, but since last night the pull felt stronger, like they had flipped a switch.

“I meant what I said,” he told her. “Last night.”

She nodded. “I know.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You believe me?”

She nodded again, and took another step closer. “I didn't mean to get so drunk,” she began. “I never meant to --” When she stopped, he finished the thought for her.

“You never meant to kiss me.”

Her face flushed. “No! That's not what I was going to say!”

He watched her with a smirk on his lips.

“You kissed me first,” she snapped.

“Yes,” he said, but didn't go on.

How could she explain to him how she felt? The shame and the guilt that held her down? And now, with the plans having been intercepted…

“We should have died,” she said.

“I know.”

She held his gaze, trying to say with a look what she couldn't with words. He had to know that he was the only one who would understand.

Scarif. The elevator. The tribute ceremony. The drinking. The night. The plans. All of it jumbled around her head, making it impossible to focus on just one thing. And there he was, watching with those dark eyes that seemed to really, truly see her.

“What do we do?” she asked, not even knowing what she was asking about anymore.

He sighed, weariness heavy on his shoulders.

“I don't know.”


	4. All This Could Be Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"But I've been wondering -- if the door opens up, we go where it leads."_

They parted ways reluctantly. There hadn’t been much to say after that. They were both devastated beyond words. An awkward silence had hung in the air -- neither knew how to bridge the gap that the morning (and sobriety) had created. So they simply walked back through the jungle, not speaking, not touching, until they reached the tarmac. Cassian looked down at Jyn and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“I’ll see you later,” she said for him, and turned and walked away. Cassian watched her go, his throat full of words that he couldn’t figure out how to put into coherent sentences. He wanted to tell her so many things -- but it all seemed so inconsequential now.

“ _We should have died,_ ” she had told him. He knew exactly what she meant. If they had died on Scarif, they wouldn’t have had to know that all they had lost had been for nothing. Cassian had been defeated before. He knew loss. But there was something different about this time. Maybe it was because there might have actually been an end in sight. There had been hope, real and palpable, that the people around him could hold onto and use. But now…

He looked around at all of the activity on the tarmac. Ships leaving on missions, pilots repairing their fighters. All of this -- was there really any reason for it anymore? It was hard to think so.

He clenched and unclenched his hands, his head spinning. And Jyn. What about Jyn? She had finally discovered a purpose with that mission. She had done something that had made a difference. It had torn her apart knowing that lives were lost to ensure their victory. HOw must she feel now? He imagined that the guilt she felt was equal to his, if not more. He knew that she wasn’t good with guilt. To be honest, he wasn’t much better with it either.

“Captain Andor!”

He snapped out of his thoughts to see a young private hurrying towards him. Cassian recognized him as the one he had spoken to yesterday, before the tribute ceremony. What had it been about? Oh, yes…

“Did you find what I asked you to?”

The private nodded. “Yessir. It’s in rough shape, but it fit the parameters you set.”

Cassian nodded. “Show me.”

“Yessir. This way, sir.”

 

\------------------------

 

Somehow, someway, Chirrut knew that she was coming before she even rounded the corner.

“Hello, Jyn,” he said in a cheery voice as she entered the room. Jyn wished he wasn’t smiling. As it was, the smile didn’t last long. His brows drew together when she sat in the chair next to him. “Something’s troubling you.”

Next to him, Baze grunted in a “no shit” sort of way.

Jyn sighed. Was it worth telling them? They had a right to know. She studied them carefully. Both of them had been outfitted in standard Alliance uniform -- that is, whatever utilitarian rags were on hand. They both looked much less formidable in their grey shirts and pants, but somehow, Chirrut still seemed so much like a monk, and Baze… well, Baze still looked like he’d rather be blowing you away with his cannon.

“How are you?” she asked, trying to keep her voice light. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you sooner. I --” Well, best not tell them why.

Baze grunted again, dismissing her lack of an explanation. Chirrut ignored his companion and fixed Jyn with that stare of his, the one that made you wonder if he really _was_ blind.

“Something’s troubling you,” he repeated, softer this time.

She stared at her feet. “It’s nothing.”

He cocked his head, as if listening for something, and then he smiled. “Ah,” he said. “It has something to do with the Captain. I see now.”

Baze chuckled, and Jyn felt herself begin to blush. Chirrut grinned.

“How is the Captain?” he asked. “He visited us yesterday, didn’t he, Baze?” Baze ignored him and interested himself by pulling out a knife (where did he even get it?) and cleaning out his fingernails.

“He’s fine,” was her curt reply, but Chirrut had that damn smirk on his face like he knew something she didn’t.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, closing his eyes and turning his face towards the ceiling.

“You’re annoying her,” said Baze, not looking up from his fingernails.

“She doesn’t mind.”

Jyn’s jaw clenched, but she bit her tongue. She wasn’t really annoyed. It was just that being around them reminded her so much of their mission -- and of the failure that they knew nothing about. What could she say? She was under orders to keep silent. She ran a hand over her face and stood.

“I have to get going,” she lied. “I need to --”

Chirrut smiled that infuriating smile. “I’m sure we will see you again soon.” Baze glanced up and her and the corners of his mouth twitched. Jyn shut her mouth and walked out of the room.

When she was gone, Baze said to Chirrut, “Why are you so hard on her?” To which his friend replied, “Because sometimes I am not the only one who is blind.”

 

\-----------------------------------

 

The pile of parts didn’t look like much, but it was exactly what Cassian had been hoping for. 

He had known that _someone_ would had to have had parts for this particular make and model. Luckily, he had been right. A cursory glance through the cart in front of him made him smile. He had everything he needed, and it was already mostly assembled -- it wouldn’t take to long to put it together.

He put his hand into his pocket and touched the memory bank that was hidden there.

_Soon, old friend._

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Jyn desperately needed something to do.

She was going crazy, wandering around base with no real purpose. Her hands itched. She needed to have them on something, _anything_.

The worst part of it was that there was nothing she was useful for. She had barely succeeded in being a figurehead, and look where that had gotten them. She had no useful skills, beyond thievery and stubbornness. High Command had considered her a means to an end; now that her one chance at changing their opinion of her had failed, she was nothing more to them than a pest, a thorn in their side.

She sulked through the main hangar, not really paying much attention to where she was going. She would have walked straight past him if he hadn’t called her name.

“Jyn!”

She jumped when Bodhi popped up beside her. He was covered in grease -- his teeth flashed white from beneath the smears on his face. He was grinning like a child. If made her heart clench to see him happy. _If only he knew._

“Hello, how are you?”

He gestured to the X-wing fighter behind him. “They’re showing me the fighters,” he said, his speech clipped in that anxious way of his. “They said I could learn to fly one. Me, a fighter pilot!” He laughed nervously. Jyn’s face broke into a grin. She couldn’t help it.

“That’s wonderful.”

He nodded rapidly. “How -- how have you been?”

She bit her lip, unsure of what to say. “All right.”

His brows drew together a bit. “Well, I should probably get back --”

She nodded, and he turned and went back to the group of pilots he had been talking to. One of them clapped him on the back. Jyn smiled. It was nice to see at least one of them fitting in.

She needed someone to talk to, to get the weight of the news she’d received this morning off her chest. But there was no one, except Cassian. And that… well, that was a whole problem unto itself.

She kept walking, hoping that she would run into something that would distract her. What she ended up running into was the exact opposite.

She tried to turn away before he saw her, but Cassian just had a way of knowing she was there. He glanced up from the -- what was it, a droid? -- and called her name. She froze, pursed her lips, and went to him.

“What are you doing?” she asked, gesturing to the droid in front of him. It didn’t look familiar. He smiled and pulled something from his pocket.

“Bringing the dead back to life,” he said, and inserted the memory bank into the droid’s open head. He shut it, flipped a power switch in the neck, and the servos whirred and a pair of white eyes glowed.

The droid twitched, turned its head to Jyn, and said in a very familiar voice, “Oh, it’s _you._ ”

Her jaw dropped. She stared at the droid, then at Cassian, who was grinning at her. The droid turned to Cassian.

“Cassian, what have you done?” It looked down at it’s feet, then at it’s arms, and finally back at Cassian, who stood eye to eye with it.

If droids could scowl, Jyn knew it would.

“Welcome back, Kaytu.”

“I’m short,” the droid announced. Cassian patted it on it’s shoulder.

“I know, but it’s all I had.” Cassian tightened a few bolts on its arms and stepped back.

It certainly wasn’t as imposing as an Imperial security droid, but the lanky T-model cargo pilot droid managed to carry itself with the same sardonic attitude that the old K2SO had. But the droid didn’t seem pleased with the arrangement.

“I see she’s still around,” he said, turning to Jyn. She scowled at it. Cassian frowned and put the wrench down.

“Go check in with the garage,” he said. “They’ll need to register you.”

“But --”

“Go!”

The droid shot a look at Jyn before stomping off. Cassian rolled his eyes.

“I hadn’t realized you had saved his memory,” Jyn said.

He shrugged. “I almost didn’t, but I had to go past him to get to the lift…”

 _To get to you_ , her mind finished.

“I couldn’t just leave him,” he continued, wiping the grease from his hands with a rag. He looked around the hangar before settling his gaze on her. “I thought, if we made it out of there, it wouldn’t be right to leave him behind.”

She nodded, the memory of that day still fresh in her mind.

“He’ll complain about his new body forever,” she joked, trying to keep the mood light. She was rewarded with that lopsided grin of his, the one that made her heart race.

“Well, he always was ungrateful.”

She laughed -- really laughed. It caught her off guard. It sounded foreign, coming from her own mouth, but he smiled when he heard it. She met his eyes, and the look he was giving her made her breath hitch.

“I honestly don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before,” he said. She shook her head and took a step back. She was suddenly dizzy.

“It’s not impossible. Not much to laugh at these days.”

His lips tightened into a thin line. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “We should talk.”

Her heart was hammering in her chest. She could smell him, grease and sweat.

“I thought we had already done that,” she muttered, glancing around to make sure no one was watching them. She felt like she had hundreds of eyes on her. But it was just him.

“Jyn,” he said, and she took at deep breath.

“Okay. But where --?”

Once again, she found herself following him. Maybe one day she’d know the base well enough to lead him around. That is, if they survived that long.

It wasn’t surprising to her that he had taken them to his room. It was really the only private place there was. He shut the door behind him and turned to her, leaning against the door, just like he had the night before. She gripped her hands together, trying to disappear -- his eyes bored through her, like he could see everything she was thinking. _Damn spy_ , she thought.

He watched her for a bit, and she looked everywhere but at him, until she couldn’t help it. She locked eyes with him, feeling frozen to the spot. In the dim light of the lamp his eyes were almost black.

“I can’t stop thinking about last night,” he said, pinning her there with his words and his eyes.

She swallowed. “Me neither.”

“I know I shouldn’t,” he went on, and there was anguish in his voice. “We -- everything we did -- was it even worth it?”

She wasn’t sure anymore, but she couldn’t open her mouth to say so.

He pushed away from the door and came to her, reaching out a hand to cup her cheek. His thumb ran across her face as he brought his forehead to touch hers. Up close, his eyes were the deepest brown, and they were looking right into the very center of her. She was relieved when he closed his eyes, but he brought his lips to hers and hovered, millimeters away, and murmured, “I can’t get you out of my head.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was overwhelmed by his closeness, by his warmth. Memories of words whispered the night before flooded her mind. But they were overtaken by the revelations of the morning. She was scared, and full of so much guilt. She felt as anguished as he had sounded. But with him there, so close, so very _real_ , she could push it aside.

“Cassian,” she managed to breathe, and it all came crashing down.

His mouth caught hers, soft but insistent. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him tight against her. It wasn’t the fiery kiss they had shared the night before, nor was it full of desperation as it had been in the elevator on Scarif. It was steady and slow. It said, _we have time._

After a moment, he pulled away. He gazed down at her, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. 

“Are we doing this?” he asked. It was a loaded question. What _were_ they doing? What kind of door had they opened?

She wasn’t sure, but she nodded anyway, because it was what she wanted more than anything.

“We could get into trouble,” he added, but there was a lighter note to his voice that suggested he didn’t really care. Neither did she.

“Just stay with me,” she murmured, and he held her tight, as if to prove that he wouldn’t leave her side.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.”

 

\--------------------------------

 

He could kiss her for hours.

Perhaps he had -- time seemed to slow to a standstill when she was with him. His hands cradled her face as he kissed her, slow and steady. He never wanted to pull away, but eventually he had to breathe.

They gasped in a breath, grinning like idiots. Her smile lit something inside of him, a warm glow in his chest that pushed out the fear and worry.

He had felt infatuation before, when he was younger. That feeling of ‘there might be no tomorrow’ had led him into the arms of women in the past. But nothing had ever felt like this, like the way he felt when he was holding her. She was soft and warm and so full of life. And she was fierce, a force to be reckoned with in her own right. And she was kissing him like they had all the time in the world, and even though they probably didn’t, he kissed her back in the same way.

Cassian was content to spend the rest of the day like this, and they might have, had someone not begun pounding on the door.

They jumped apart. Jyn’s hands moved to her hair, attempting to smooth it down. Her eyes were wide. _What do we do?_

He held a finger to his lips and gestured towards the refresher -- _hide in there._ He hadn’t been kidding that they could possibly get into trouble. Fraternization among officers happened, but it was frowned upon, as though _they should know better._ _Bad for morale_ , he’d been told once, _if things go bad._

Well, it was a risk he was willing to take.

The knocking on the door became more insistent. Jyn bolted to the refresher and shut the door. Cassian straightened his jacket and smoothed down his hair and did his best to look like he hadn’t just been making out with the love of his life --

Wait, what?

The knocking got louder, and Cassian hit the panel. It slid open with a hiss to reveal the newly restored K2SO, who looked him up and down. Droids couldn’t have expressions, but attitudes could be implied, and right now it was annoyance.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said. Cassian inhaled through his nose and let it out slowly.

“What is it, Kay?”

“I registered myself.”

“And?”

“And now I’m registered.”

“All right, good.”

Kaytu looked around Cassian into his room. “What are you doing?” He fixed his glowing eyes back on his master. “Is _she_ here?”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you go see about finding us a new ship?”

“Fine,” said the droid, “but know that the statistical likelihood of you being discovered is seventy-two percent.”

“Thank you, Kay, I’ll keep that in mind.” And he shut the door.

“Seventy-five percent!” he heard, but he ignored it.

The door to the refresher slid open and Jyn stepped out, looking apprehensive.

“Who was it?”

“Just Kaytu.”

She nodded, but didn’t come any closer. He went to her and tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. It made her smile.

“Are you alright?” he asked. She nodded.

“I’ve never --” She frowned and gave him a helpless look. “I’ve never done this before,” she said in a small voice.

It made him want to kiss her again, to wipe any worry from her mind. “Me neither,” he told her, and put his hands on her shoulders. “But we’re in this together, yes?”

She gave him a smile that made his heartbeat speed up.

“All the way.”


	5. Don’t Carry It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”Let the yoke fall from our shoulders. Don’t carry it all, don’t carry it all.”_

“Need to know” information is always well-intended. Those of superior rank feel that it’s in the best interest of those below them to remain blissfully ignorant of certain situations. But inevitably rumors will begin to circulate after an absence of news, and prolonged silence from Command is only fuel for the fire.

It only took three-quarters of a solar cycle for rumors to spread around the Rebel Base on Yavin IV that  _something_ wasn’t right. Everyone knew that the devastating losses suffered at Scarif had at least resulted in a major victory. They had the plans to the Empire’s weapon. Surely the Council would have met by now to confer and deliberate over the next course of action. Everyone on Base waited anxiously for the call-to-arms. They expected it to come quickly. Attack now, while the Empire was still trying to wrap their collective heads around what had transpired.

But orders never came, and people began to talk.

Powered by adrenaline leftover from Scarif, the Rebels became restless. The somber mood that had blanketed the base during the Tribute Ceremony had given way to one of righteous anger and vowed revenge. Victory was in sight — why had they not begun preparations for a strike? It would only take a few days to repair the ships, to heal the pilots that had made it home from battle. They had lost many, but they were now seething with the ferocity of a wounded animal— ready to attack with the full force of their remaining strength. Morale was high, but the silence from above created a buzzing undercurrent within the ranks.  _What was happening?_ it asked, and speculation was the only reply.

000000000000

Cassian felt like he should say something. There was so much he  _should_ say. He wanted to reassure her that it would be alright. But seeing as he didn’t believe it himself, it didn’t feel right to lie to her.

Somehow they had ended up sitting on his bed. Her hair had come down — when had that happened? His fingers were tangled in it, toying with the base of her skull. His entire body was buzzing, words tripping around in his head. He should pull away and say something. Anything. But her hands were warm on his chest, and her lips had opened to him, her tongue hesitant against his.

Cassian had always considered himself a man in control of his faculties. He was an adept spy, able to hide his emotions behind a blank mask, capable of withstanding physical torture without so much as a whimper escaping his lips.

But “whimper” was the only word that could describe the noise he made when her hands slipped down his chest to rest at the tops of his thighs. He felt her lips twitch against his, and he placed his hands over hers and pushed them away. Somehow he managed to break away, sucking in a gasp of air. He opened his eyes and took in the sight of her — swollen lips, half-lidded hazel eyes, hair loose about her shoulders — and his heart split itself in two directions: part to his throat, and the other to somewhere just below his gut.

”Cassian?” Her voice was husky, and the part of his heart that had jumped to his gut migrated lower. He inhaled slowly and let it out through his nose, trying to get a grip on himself. He was acting like a teenager.

”What is it?” she asked. There was a note of anxiety in her tone, and he shook his head.

”Nothing,” he told her. “I just...” What could he say? There was so much he didn’t know about her, and yet he felt as though he knew her like he knew himself.  He thought back to Scarif, how he had wondered about her, who she really was, and how he would never get the chance to know. But they had been rescued, and he had the chance now. The questions were there, on the tip of his tongue. She sensed his distress and reached out to kiss him again, but before their lips met he blurted out, “Tell me about Lah’mu.”

She jerked back, brows drawn together.

”What?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Sorry. I — I just meant, I want to know. About you. Before...” His shoulders went up and then back down, the shrug encompassing everything that wasn’t  _now._

Her mouth turned down, eyes falling to her hands. “I...” She chewed on her bottom lip, and Cassian thought seriously about telling her never mind and taking her bottom lip between  _his_ teeth.

”It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to.” He ran his thumb across the back of her hand. “I just thought we might... talk.”

She gave him a look that said talking was the last thing she wanted to do, and he didn’t blame her. He had managed to forget everything while he had been kissing her. It all threatened to submerge him again, so he gripped her hands tighter. Touching her helped.

He thought she might move away from him. She seemed to have shrunk into herself. He opened his mouth to speak again, but she cut him off in a small voice.

”What do you want to know?”

00000000000

She was terrified at first. She had never spoken to anyone about her past. She knew that Cassian had fairly in-depth intel on her. He knew most of the facts. Where she had been born, where she had lived. Her aliases, her crimes. But that wasn’t what he was asking for. He was asking for memories, for glimpses into the life that had shaped her, a life that she had long ago buried away. Not because he needed the information for a mission. It wasn’t an interrogation. He just wanted to know for himself. He wanted to know  _her._

And somehow that was scarier.

But he didn’t press her. He just moved on the bed until his back was against the wall and held out his hand. She didn’t hesitate to go to him. She moved to sit next to him, their bodies touching from shoulder to hip, thigh to knee, until the edge of the bed made their feet dangle and separate. He held her hand in his, his thumb tracing circles on her knuckles, and said in a soothing voice, “I think it’s easier when I’m touching you, don’t you think?”

She nodded, and when he said nothing further, she let her head fall onto his shoulder, took a deep breath, and let twenty one years fall from her lips.

It was painful. Her throat was half-closed for most of it, choking on the lost things. But he never said a word, just kept holding her hand. She didn’t dare look at him. She was afraid of what she would see. She just gripped his hand and kept going, reliving her life so that he could know her. It was terrifyingly intimate. She felt naked and exposed, laying herself bare to him in this way. But he had asked, and she discovered that she could no longer deny him anything. Not if he asked her with that look on his face that made him seem so vulnerable, so  _breakable._

She almost paused mid-sentence to laugh at how ridiculous it was. There they were, two rebels, both practiced liars, thieves, and killers, sitting on a one-person cot in a dark room with their fingers interlaced, pouring out their souls. Or her soul. He was most certainly next. It was only fair.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been speaking when her voice trailed off. She had made it to getting imprisoned at Wobani. He knew everything after that, so she simply took a deep breath and sighed it out before finally looking at him.

”Well?” she asked. “Was it what you thought?”

He met her eyes and squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

Her stomach flipped, but she nodded. A silence passed between them, and Jyn took the time to process what she had just done. What was it about him that made her comfortable enough to tell him everything? Near-death experiences did tend to create strange bonds, but this was something different. She had never known trust like this before. It frightened her, but it also lit a fire deep in her chest, something small and flickering but warm all the same.

”Alright,” she said suddenly. “Don’t think that you’re getting out of it. It’s your turn.”

He chuckled, his face splitting into a crooked grin, but it faded quickly into the look that she had worn before she had begun her story — trepidation and the tiniest bit of fear.

”Fair is fair,” she teased, trying to make it easier. His mouth twitched at the corner, even as his eyes darkened.

”Don’t let go of my hand,” he said. “I won’t make it otherwise.”

She squeezed it tight, and listened. He only stumbled a few times, tripping over missions that she knew kept him up at night, body counts that haunted him. Slowly the man next to her became three-dimensional, more complete. She learned about his childhood on Fest, about how it had been cut short at the age of six by war, like hers had been. She learned how he had come to reprogram K2-SO. He told her about the man he had killed on Kafrene, and how he had drank an entire bottle of white liquor that same night to keep from seeing the man’s face when he closed his eyes. Tears stung in hers, welling up in mourning for both of them.

”What a pair we are,” she said when he’d finished. His shoulders shifted in a short laugh, then resettled closer to hers.

”Still want me?” he asked. He’d meant it to be funny, but too much sincerity slipped through. She turned to him and pulled his mouth to hers, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. When she pulled away, he gave her a small smile.

”Is that a yes?”

She actually laughed, and he wrapped his arms around her, tugging her tight against him. She buried her face in his chest, her fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt.

”Can we stay here forever?” she whispered. She felt him kiss the top of her head.

”If you want.”

She sighed, feeling suddenly and utterly exhausted. So much had happened in one day she was dizzy from it. Worry pressed in at the corners of her mind, but Cassian’s warmth kept it away.

”At least until dinner,” she said, and he laughed and kissed her until she couldn’t think of anything but him.

0000000000000

Bodhi Rook wasn’t the type of person to gossip. When he had worked for the Empire he had never paid much attention to the murmurs between other pilots. He had  _heard_ them, of course, but it wasn’t in his nature to dwell on them. But after defecting and joining the Rebellion, he was finding himself a little more susceptible to the mutterings around base. And there was an abundance of mutterings.

He was overjoyed that the Rebel pilots had included him in their ranks. He’d never had friends before. They took him in as one of their own, had shown him the fighter ships and encouraged him to consider learning to pilot one. The thought of flying an X-wing made him excited and nervous at the same time. But as the day wore on, the pilots began to talk, and Bodhi began to listen.

There had been no word from Command about their next course of action. Those pilots that weren’t still in the med bay spoke in hushed tones about why. Clearly something had happened. They should have been scrambling the fleet. Instead they were cooling their heels. And then a new word began to circulate.

_SOS._

Someone had heard from someone who had heard from the aide to an officer that there had been a transmission. And rumor had it that that transmission had been an SOS. But from what ship, and when? Could that be the cause of the delay? When?  _What ship?_

When Bodhi first heard, his heart immediately sank. Something was wrong, and there was only one person who might be able to quell his fear.

He had to find Cassian.

000000000000

Jyn’s grumbling stomach was what woke them. It was followed shortly by the mess hall bell.

Jyn felt a rumble in Cassian’s chest that she interpreted as a chuckle, and she lifted her head to find him grinning at her. It made her heart race.

”What?” she said, feigning a scowl. It didn’t fool him.

”Hungry?”

She sat up and ran a hand over her hair. It was a mess. What had he done to it?

”So what if I am? Breakfast was terrible.”

He sat up next to her, his shoulder brushing hers. “That’s what you get for sleeping in.”

Her scowl was real this time, and he grinned wider. Rolling her eyes, she stood and walked toward the refresher, opening the door with a bit more force than necessary.  _Cheeky bastard._

As she fixed her hair, Cassian swung his legs off the bed and reached for his boots, pulling them on with practiced speed. Jyn saw him stand and pick up his jacket up off the floor out of the corner of her eye, and after she tucked the last strand of hair into a bun she turned and saw that he was staring at her with a far-off look.

”What?” she snapped, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

He watched her for a moment more, then gave her a lopsided smile and stepped toward her.

”Just thinking,” he said, scooping her vest off the floor and handing it to her. She snatched it away from him, feeling indignant. He was laughing at her for some reason, and she didn’t like it.

”About what?”

His eyes met hers and his voice dropped. “About how beautiful you look with your hair down.”

Jyn felt her face flush with heat. “Oh?” she said, trying to act like he hadn’t caught her off guard. No one had ever called her beautiful before.

”Yes,” he said, and he closed the gap between them and leaned down to murmur in her ear, “And about how I can’t wait to see it down again.”

Her eyes went wide then fluttered shut. Damn him. His breath was hot on her neck, and he was so close, so warm —

She took a deep breath and shoved him away.

”Easy, Captain,” she quipped. He grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back, despite her pounding heart and shortness of breath.

And then her stomach growled again, and he took her hand.

”C’mon,” he said, pulling her towards the door, but she held him back.

”Cassian, wait.”

”What is it?”

She frowned. “We — us. We can’t go out there and act like — well —“

His face fell for a moment, and then just as quickly it was replaced by the face of Captain Andor, Rebel Intelligence.

”Right. So...”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We should— I don’t know, have some... rules, maybe?”

His expression told her that he was rapidly scanning through her reasoning. If they got caught, there would be hell to pay. But he had already disobeyed orders once, and on a much more drastic scale. She could see it in his eyes — how much more trouble could they really get into? They were grounded as it was. Beyond the briefing this morning, they were essentially being ignored. So really, did it matter? And then his face hardened: he had dedicated his life to this rebellion, and he wasn’t about to turn away from it now.

All of this flashed across his face in a matter of seconds.

”Right,” he said. “Rules.”

”No kissing,” she said. “Not in public.” She considered a moment, her heart sinking a bit. “Actually, it’s probably best that we don’t touch at all.”

He nodded grudgingly. “On one condition.”

She met his eyes, and he put his hand on her shoulder.

”What?”

”You sleep here. With me.”

She swallowed. “Is that really —?”

His grip tightened. “Yes,” he said, and his tone told her that he would hear no further argument. Normally that kind of command would have made her livid, but the look in his eyes was making her knees weak, and so all she could do was nod, cursing him all the while.

He nodded back, pressed a quick kiss to her lips, then let her go. She felt dazed, while he seemed completely in control. She would have to ask him someday about how he did it. She came to when she heard the hiss of the door. Cassian stuck his head out, looked in both directions, then gestured for her to follow.

_All clear._

She took a deep breath and walked out into the hall, mentally preparing herself to go without touching him for the foreseeable future.

She honestly didn’t think she’d make it, and then cursed under her breath. In a matter of hours he had turned her into a sap. She cursed him, too. As they walked down the hall, a respectable distance between them, she began plotting her revenge. She’d make him regret that he had made her so.. so...  _needy._

A part of her was grateful for it, though. It made her forget everything else. In the cold light of the bunker, however, it all came flooding back. She tried to remember the feeling of her hand in his, but it wasn’t the same as the real thing.

She would have to face them, knowing the devastating truth. She swallowed and took a deep breath. Cassian heard her let it out and he turned. What he saw made him stop.

”Hey,” he said, glancing around before he put his hands on her shoulders. “You’ll be okay.”

She nodded, her anxiety making her mute.

”I’ll be right next to you the whole time. You’ll be okay.”

”You do all the talking,” she croaked through a choked throat.

”Deal.”

They separated, and continued on in silence.

0000000000000

Whatever they had been expecting to face, the reaction to their entrance into the mess hall was infinitely worse. The talk died down as people noticed them, and then picked back up like the buzzing of a hornets nest. Sad stares, defeated glances followed them as they made their way through the line, accepting whatever rations were offered to them in silence. Cassian was the one to spot Bodhi and Chirrut and Baze at a table on the far side of the hall. There seemed to be an invisible moat around them — people shooting looks over their shoulders to look at the group, then turning back to the others at their table and muttering. Jyn’s skin began to crawl with nerves.

Bodhi seemed to be more anxious than usual, because he jumped up when he saw them coming and rushed to meet them.

”Cassian! I’ve been looking for you! All afternoon!”

Jyn felt her cheeks go red, but Cassian’s spy face gave nothing away.

”Sorry,” he said. “Reports.”

Bodhi nodded, and they followed him to the table. Jyn sat down and tried to make herself look small. Chirrut glanced in her direction, but was unusually quiet. Cassian sat next to her, his fingers brushing her thigh as he adjusted his jacket. She picked up her fork and poked at the food on her tray, her empty stomach in knots.

”Cassian,” Bodhi hissed. “Somethings wrong. I heard — well, a lot of people are talking, and —“

Jyn’s heart was pounding in her chest. The sound of it almost drowned out Bodhi’s stammering. Almost.

”There are rumors,” he went on, “about a transmission—“

Jyn dropped her fork.

Chirrut turned his blind eyes on her. “Jyn,” he said. “Something clouds your mind.” Baze watched her silently, but his brows were furrowed not from his usual gruffness, but from concern. Cassian fiddled with his utensils, the only sign that he was concerned, too. He glanced down at her, and she glanced back.

 _We have to,_ she tried to say.  _We have to tell them._

And somehow Cassian understood. He took a good look around the table, and at the other tables around them.

”Yes,” was all he said, and the air went out of the others in a single, audible exhale.

For Bodhi, his whole body seemed to collapse under the weight of the knowledge, and his hands began to shake.

Chirrut closed his eyes and began to mouth a silent prayer.

Baze simply reached out and put his hand over Jyn’s.

”How?” Bodhi asked in a whisper. Cassian shook his head.  _Not here._

Jyn felt like she might be sick. She couldn’t look up, couldn’t meet their eyes.

Baze squeezed her hand. “Be at ease, Little Sister,” he said, and took his hand away.

”I—“ she began, but her throat closed up again. Cassian’s hand found hers under the table. She clung to it like a lifeline.

”The Force moves in mysterious ways,” said Chirrut, opening his eyes. Baze grunted.

”But — But — what do we —?” Bodhi tried. Cassian put a hand on his shoulder.

”It will be alright,” he said in as calm a voice as he could muster, and it seemed to soothe the pilot. It worked on Jyn, too.

She looked up, looked around the table at the remains of her team. Her friends. They knew now. They knew, and yet they had not shattered. They were defeated, but not broken. They still had strength, and it filled the cracks in her heart.

She was not alone. They would help her carry the burden of this knowledge. She looked at Cassian, and he gave her a faint smile.

No, she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.


	6. Big Ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”For the first time in my life I have seen the relevance of love when you don’t have much, when it’s what you need.”_

Because the Tribute Ceremony the night before had resulted in so many hangovers that morning, Cassian knew that there would be little to worry about tonight — at least as far as drinking was concerned. As it was, most of the liquor had disappeared last night, so it would be next to impossible to find any now. Not that he needed it. His headache had never really gone away.

He was exhausted. There was a weariness that had settled deep into his bones. His ribs still ached from getting shot on Scarif, and the healing fractures in his spine were sending little bolts of lightning down his legs.

Maybe he did need a drink.

Supper had passed in silence after Cassian had confirmed the rumors. There hadn’t been much else to say. No one at the table ended up eating much food. Cassian managed to swallow a few bites of bread, but when he looked down at Jyn, he saw that she had simply torn her roll into hundreds of tiny pieces. He nudged her shoulder with his to get her to look at him, and when she did he gave her a questioning look. Her lips pursed together, telling him that there wasn’t much he could do for her here.

Bodhi was the last person to speak before the mess hall bell dismissed them.

“Why hasn’t the Council said anything?” 

Cassian shook his head. “I’m sure they will soon.” They had to. He believed that.

When the bell rang everyone stood and moved as one towards the doors. The soldier in Cassian was mildly offended to see so much uneaten food go into the disposal bin, but a new more sympathetic part of him shoved it down. He looked around at the mass of people, saw the anxiety and exhaustion carved into their faces. The Council _had_ to say something soon. Morale was falling, and fast. But what would the news do to them if not further hurt morale?

For the first time in his life, Cassian was contemplating leaving. Just grab Jyn and Kay and the rest and just _leave_.

Thankfully this feeling left him almost as soon as it had appeared. There was no sense in it. He’d come this far. No sense in abandoning the cause now. The Death Star had almost killed him twice now. If he thought about it it didn’t really seem like that bad of a death. He remembered the searing heat coming off the waves on Scarif, the white light, how it had seemed like the oxygen was being sucked out of the air around him — and then a ship had appeared, and he had been rescued. He understood Jyn’s anguish. If they had died, they wouldn’t have to watch the Alliance crumble around them.

Someone called out to Bodhi, and the small pilot flinched before looking over his shoulder to see who it had been. A group of fighter pilots were crowded together in the hall, gesturing for him to join them. Bodhi held up his hand, and turned back to his former team.

“I—“ he stuttered, and Jyn stepped forward and threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. This display of affection made Bodhi begin to shake, and when Jyn pulled back she cupped his face between her hands and stood on tiptoe to kiss his forehead. She didn’t say anything — Cassian could see her throat moving in an effort to speak around the lump there — but Bodhi seemed to understand the look in her eyes, and he hugged her again before turning to go. Cassian clapped a hand on his shoulder before he walked away.

“It’s good to see that he’s making friends,” he said, feeling rather protective. Baze grunted in agreement.

Jyn stared after Bodhi, her eyes wide. Cassian thought that she might be feeling protective as well.

“He will find his own path,” said Chirrut. “As will you.”

Jyn looked up at the Guardians. “I’m sorry,” she managed to say. Chirrut leaned on his staff and smiled in her direction.

“Our part is done,” he said, and Jyn’s shoulders tensed before he finished, “The Force will guide us forward.”

Jyn’s whole body relaxed, her breath going out of her in a long sigh. Cassian felt his own tension ebb.

“Our part is done,” Chirrut repeated, and straightened, moving his staff out so that he could walk. Baze put his hands on Jyn’s shoulders, murmuring something to her that Cassian couldn’t hear, but Jyn seemed to perk up a bit, and a shy smile appeared on her lips. It made his heart light to see it.

It took him a moment to realize that Chirrut and Baze were now looking at him.

“Rest easy, Captain,” Chirrut said, a glint of humor in his blind eyes. Even Baze had his mouth set in something easier than his usual frown. Cassian felt a brief panic. _How did they know?_ But the Guardians moved away without another word, leaving he and Jyn standing in the hallway, surrounded by people and feeling utterly alone.

 _No,_ he thought, looking down at the woman next to him and wanting desperately to take her hand. _Not alone._

She seemed to have heard his thoughts, because she looked up and met his eyes, and there was a small fire in hers, something that spoke to his soul. He had to remind himself of their rules. That look made him want to pick her up and whisk her away to his room and keep her there. As it was, it looked like she was struggling with it too.

He jerked his head in the direction of his room, trying to keep his expression passive. She glanced around at the dying crowd, trying to gauge the risks. It was still busy enough — unlikely that anyone would notice them walking together in the direction of the officers quarters. Or at least he hoped it was unlikely. With all of the gossip about the Death Star plans, he was sure that most people would be too preoccupied to pick up on the smaller stuff, like “Captain Andor is sleeping with a subordinate.”

Well, he _wasn’t_ sleeping with her. Not in that sense, anyway.

Not yet.

He mentally kicked himself. The last thing he needed to do was screw this up by having sex with her. If he was being honest, he had already considered the possibility, and so far hadn’t come up with any good outcomes, despite the immediate benefits. No, he thought, setting off at a slow walk and hoping she was following him. Best not to screw it up.

She fell in step beside him as they moved through the bunker, the noise of the crowd dying away the closer they got to his room. His exhaustion had come back. His plan was to power everything down, take off his boots, and crawl into bed with Jyn beside him. He didn’t think he even had the energy to take off his clothes. Which, in the grand scheme of things, was probably for the best.

Unfortunately, that got him to thinking about what Jyn would look like with _her_ clothes off, and it was this train of thought that was interrupted by the voice of a very annoyed droid.

“You’re bringing her back to you room _again_?”

Cassian stopped short of running into K2, and Jyn froze beside him.

“Kay! Shh!”

The droid straightened to its full height — which was a very unimposing five foot four — and looked at Jyn, then back to Cassian.

“The odds of you being discovered—“

“Are higher if you don’t shut up!” Jyn hissed, and both Cassian and Kay stared at her in surprise. She seemed a little surprised herself, and stared wide-eyed back at them.

“What?” she said, crossing her arms. “It’s true.”

Cassian nodded, trying not to smirk, and turned back to the droid. “Kay, look, I need you to leave this alone.”

Kay made a grinding noise with her servos that Cassian interpreted as a groan of frustration.

“Cassian—“

“Kay please. Not now. I’m tired.”

Kay looked at Jyn again. “There is a statistical likelihood that you will not be sleeping if she goes into your room with you.”

That made them both blush.

“Kay...” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine,” the droid snapped. “I’ll go to the recharging station. But know that I do not support this irrational decision. If Alliance Command—“

“I’ll deal with Command if it comes to that,” he said, scanning the door open and gesturing Jyn inside.

“It _will_ come to that—“

“Good night Kay.”

K2 made another grinding noise and stomped away. Cassian sighed and stepped inside, closing the door behind him and locking it. Jyn was sitting on the bed frowning.

“Think he’ll tell anyone?”

“Not likely.”

“Baze and Chirrut know.”

That didn’t surprise him. “What _don’t_ they know?”

She shrugged. “Should we tell Bodhi? It doesn’t seem right to leave him out.”

He shrugged back. “If you want.”

She picked at imaginary lint on her knees, thinking.

“If he doesn’t figure it out on his own,” she mumbled. He smirked in spite of himself.

“Are we that obvious?”

That got a smile out of her. “Your hand was on my knee all through dinner,” she said.

He shrugged again, finding that he didn’t really care. She rolled her eyes.

“So much for rules,” she sighed, watching him peel off his jacket. He hung it on the back of his desk chair and met her eyes.

“Does it really matter?” he asked, wondering why he had even agreed to any rules in the first place. What _did_ it matter?

“The base is too busy thinking about what happened to—“ He paused when he saw her expression harden, but picked it back up to tell her what he had thought in the hallway.

“They won’t notice,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

“You say that.”

“And if they do? What would you do?” He was curious. She turned to picking at her cuticles. She would make a terrible spy, he thought. She had too many tells.

She shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Would you deny it?”

Her head snapped up.

“No,” she said, her stare daring him to doubt her.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and went to her. She made room for him by moving over, and the mattress sunk towards the floor under their combined weight. He pressed his side against hers, and she sighed.

“Will you stay?” he asked quietly.

She feigned consideration. “Dunno. If we’re not following any rules then your conditions are no longer binding.”

He smirked, and brought his lips to her ear, his nose just brushing her skin. He felt her inhale sharply, and his gut twisted. What was it about her that made him feel this way? All of the things he should have been thinking about, should have been considering — and there he was, concerned only with the way her hair curled around her ear, and how she managed to smell so good despite living in an army bunker on a jungle planet.

“The rules were your idea,” he told her, wondering what had happened to the sensible parts of him. _Gone_ , he thought. _Back on Scarif._  
She had made him reckless. Kay said so. So had Command. But she had turned to look at him with those eyes, and he was as lost now as he was when she had told him “Trust goes both ways.”

“Damn,” he said, not realizing he had said it out loud until she frowned at him.

“What?”

“Nothing. I—“ He didn’t really know what to say, but he tried to come up with something. She shook her head.

“I’m tired,” she said. “So tired...”

He nodded, and stood, pulling her to her feet. She folded back the blanket, and removed her vest and toed off her boots, but then stood there shifting from foot to foot, unsure.

Oh, right. Clothes.

They stared at each other for a moment, as if to size up the others intentions. Neither of them blinked or looked away, until Cassian stepped back and tugged his shirt over his head. They were both adults. Nothing she hadn’t seen before.

Except she _did_ see, and he began to regret his decision as soon as his shirt hit the floor, because she was really _looking_ at him. Her eyes drifted from his face, down his neck and over his chest, taking in every scar, every patchwork flaw in his skin, and he felt naked before her.

Jyn’s hand came up and rested on his upper arm, tracing a groove that ran through his deltoid.

“How?”

“Blaster. When I was ten.”

She nodded absently, her fingertips light on his chest and across his ribs, until they came to rest on a twisted stretch of shiny pink skin on his side, just above his hip. She didn’t have to ask what that one was from. The guilt shown on her face.

 _My fault,_ it said.

Her fingers traces the scar absently, her eyes far-off. He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her palm. She pressed it against his cheek before stepping back and grabbing the hem of her top.

“My turn.”

“Jyn,” he said, grabbing her hands. “You don’t have to.”

She met his eyes and said softly, “I want to.”

Who was he to deny her?

She pulled the hem of her shirt up, but hissed in pain as her shoulders rose. Cassian stepped forward and grasped the fabric and helped her pull it over her head. The thrill of it sent his pulse racing.

To her credit, she didn’t cover herself or shrink away. She met his gaze straight on, jaw set. _Go ahead,_ her eyes said. _I dare you to judge._

His mouth seemed to have gone dry, and his heart was pounding in his ears, but he didn’t look away from her eyes.

“May I look at you?” he asked, and she nodded, but more than that — she took his hands and placed them on her waist. He fingers flexed against her skin, and he dropped his eyes.

Her skin was broken by scars and bruises, and the thought that struck him was that _they matched._ He had never seen a woman with so many scars like his own. Combat scars. Battle wounds.

“Well?” she demanded. He looked at her face and leaned down to press his forehead to hers.

“You’re beautiful.”

He could feel the heat of her blush bloom from her chest and climb her neck to suffuse her cheeks. She was overwhelmed, he could tell, so he pulled her to him and embraced her, letting her hide his face in her chest. He tried not to think about how amazing her skin felt against his.

“Thank you,” she murmured. He kissed the top of her head.

“Are you tired?” he asked. She nodded.

“C’mon.” He pulled away, his skin humming at the absence of her touch. He shucked his boots and went to unbuckle his belt, but paused and looked at her. She shrugged, and slipped out of her pants before climbing beneath the blanket. The brief glimpse of her long white thighs would be enough to fuel him for months. She held out her hand, and he stepped out of his uniform and climbed in after her.

It took a minute of tossing and turning, trying to find a way for the both of them to lie comfortably in a one-person bed, but eventually they ended up with Jyn’s head resting on Cassian’s chest, and his arms around her, their legs tangled. Her whole body was pressed against his, and his cells were buzzing at her closeness. He was content to lie there forever, not moving, simply touching, scars aligned and heartbeats syncing. Her hand was splayed over his heart, and he wondered if she could feel it pounding.

“Jyn?”

She hummed, already on her way to unconsciousness.

He opened his mouth, words poised on his tongue, but her hand came up and cupped his cheek and pulled his mouth to hers. Her lips lingered, sharing his breath, and then she settled back against his chest. Cassian took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Good night, Jyn.”

00000000000000

It took her a moment to break the surface of her dreams. She had been on a beach, the waves lapping at her feet. The sand was black, like the beaches on Lah’mu, and she felt calm. But something was niggling at the back of her mind, a voice whose words she couldn’t make out. Slowly she drifted up, away from the beach, until her eyes opened to darkness.

She was awake, but she didn’t know what had woken her. It took her a moment to register where she was. Not the barracks. A room. Cassian’s room.

_Cassian._

He was there, next to her, but something was wrong. His body was tense and his limbs were locked straight. His breathing was labored, but his jaw was clenched. No sound came from his mouth.

He was having a nightmare.

Jyn reached out and put a hand on his chest, able to discern that his heart was pounding in the split second before he twisted and gripped her wrist, pining it above her head and pressing her body into the mattress. It was too dark to see, but she knew that his other hand was raised in a fist, ready to connect with her face.

“Cassian!” she cried. “Cassian, wake up!”

His grip faltered.

“Jyn?” His voice was small, like a child’s. “What are you—?” He seemed to come to, and realized that he had her arm pinned, and he rolled away from her, shrinking back against the wall. Jyn sat up, massaging her wrist as she muttered “low lights.” The lamp on the desk glowed, illuminating the figure next to her. Jyn’s heart broke at the sight.

He was panting heavily, eyes wide and hands shaking. Jyn was almost afraid to touch him for fear that he would lash out again. But she swallowed that fear and reached out her hand, ready to pull back should he react. But all he did was flinch when she touched his hand. Nothing else.

“Cassian,” she said softly. “It’s alright. It was just a nightmare.”

“I—“ He swallowed and shook his head, as though trying to shake off the remnants of the dream.

“It’s alright,” she repeated, thinking back to what her father would say when she woke from a bad dream. _I’m here,_ he would tell her, holding her close. _You’re safe._

“It’s Jyn,” she told him, moving her hand slowly up her arm. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

And then his eyes finally focused on hers, and relief flooded his face.

“Jyn,” he breathed, sinking down into the mattress. “Jyn.”

“I’m here.” She moved to his side, gently gathering him into her arms. His head fell heavy on his shoulder.

“Where were you?” she asked after a while. He took a shuddering a breath and sat up, wiping a hand over his face.

“Data tower,” he mumbled, and she needed no further explanation.

They sat in silence as his breathing eased, until he jolted and grabbed her hands.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, cradling her wrist. “I’m sorry, I—“

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He sighed and sat back, his eyes closing. Jyn watched the emotions play across his face: anguish, fear, relief... 

She could see that he was trying to hold it together, trying to act like it wasn’t that bad. How many times had he awoke in the dark, alone, with no one to comfort him? How many times had she? She took his hand. He had told her it was easier when they touched. He had been right.

“Lie down,” she told him, and they shifted until his head was on her shoulder and his arm was slung across her waist, his hand finding its way to her hip. His thumb traced the crest of bone in an absentminded way. It made goosebumps rise on her skin. His breath was warm on her neck, and she felt herself slipping down beneath gentle waves, the ebb and flow of them matching the strokes of his thumb on her hip.

“You’re safe,” she whispered to him, willing him to believe it. His hand drifted up her side, a trail of sparks following in its wake. What had Kay said? _Statistical likelihood of not sleeping._ Right. But his touch stilled at her waist, his long fingers curling against her ribs, and she let out a sigh.

For all of her past mistakes, for everything wrong that she had done in her life, somehow she had ended up here, with this man, feeling peaceful for the first time since her childhood. She attributed that sense of peace to him. She had felt it on the beach on Scarif, when she had been ready to die in his arms.

“Well you’re not dying now,” she said. Cassian shifted next to her, his hand tightening its grip on her waist before going limp once more. She held him close and gave a quiet command to turn off the lamp.

“Not if I can help it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all for reading! To those who found this story last year and came back — sorry it took me so long to return to it. To any new readers — thank you so much for joining me on this ride. These characters mean a lot to me, and I’m grateful to all of you for letting me play in this sandbox.
> 
> As usual, comments are never expected but always appreciated, as I enjoy hearing what you liked and any constructive criticism that you might have to offer. 
> 
> Until next time!  
> ~Avey


	7. Bigger Than Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”I don’t want you to hold me, I want you to pray, because it’s bigger than us.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I took a break on this to go write some fluff, but I’m back for the serious stuff now. Please enjoy.

They were called to the Great Hall at dawn.

Cassian woke with a start. The words on the loudspeaker were slightly muffled as they came through his door, but he could understand them clearly enough.

_”All personnel please report to the Great Hall for a mandatory debriefing.”_

So it would be today.

His head fell back to the pillow. Jyn’s head was resting on his arm, her back flush with his front. They fit together like a pair of spoons. His hand was spread across the swell of her hip, and her ass was nestled against him just  _there,_ and he sighed into her hair, wishing desperately for just a few more minutes...

The announcement continued to play in the hall outside. Jyn began to stir, arching her back and pressing herself closer to him. He stifled a groan and stilled her by gripping her hip.

 _Some other time,_ he told himself, and carefully pulled his arm out from under her head and sat up. She moaned in protest, reaching behind her to grab at his arm in an attempt to pull him back down, but he caught her hand and gave it a quick kiss.

”Jyn. We have to get up.”

She mumbled something that contained a few curses.

”Jyn,” he said seriously. 

Her body tensed, apparently finally hearing the intercom outside. She groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. Clearly she wasn’t a morning person. Something about that made him smile, despite what he knew they were about to hear. He called for the lamp to turn on.

”Come on,” he told her, pulling the blanket away. She shot him a bleary-eyed glare, which only made him grin. She sat up, her hair loose about her shoulders, and Cassian restrained himself from touching it — but then thought  _What the hell?_ and did it anyway. All of his self-discipline seemed to have vanished in the course of a day.

The loss didn’t really bother him.

Her eyes fluttered shut when his fingers brushed her cheek. When they opened again, they met his, soft, with the color indiscernible in the dim light. But he could see it in his mind, an earthy green rimmed in brownish gold.

He was a spy. He was trained to remember minute details.

The intercom outside finally went silent. The lack of it made the room feel too quiet.

”It’s today, isn’t it?” she asked.

”I think so.”

She took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh.

”Alright then.”

They got off the bed and dressed. Cassian watched her pull on her clothes, aware that he was staring, but she didn’t seem to mind. She caught his eye when her head popped out of the neck of her shirt, and she gave him a shy smile.

As he tugged on his boots, she looked at the door.

”People will see us,” she said, but there was no concern behind the words.

He didn’t really care either. He said as much.

She shrugged. “Shall we?”

 

* * *

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was tense.

That was really putting it mildly, but there wasn’t a better word for it.

 _Ticking time bomb,_ thought Jyn as they squeezed into the back of the hall. The whole place felt like it was ready to blow. Expressions were tight, anxious. Bodies fidgeted in the lines. The room practically vibrated with nervous energy.

Cassian’s fingertips brushed hers, but his eyes were fixed forward. Jyn tried to calm herself. She already knew what they were going to say — Why was she as anxious as everyone else?

The Council came out onto the raised platform at the front of the hall. A hush fell over the assembly.

Senator Mon Mothma, ever in her impeccable white robes, stepped forward.

”Good morning,” she began. Jyn caught herself grinding her teeth. It was not going to stay a good morning.

”At dawn yesterday,” the senator continued, “Command received a transmission from the ship  _Tantive IV._ This transmission was an SOS.”

The crowd began to shift uneasily. The fuse was lit. Jyn began the countdown.

”This ship was in route to Yavin IV to deliver schematics acquired during the Battle of Scarif. The ship was overtaken by an Imperial Star Destroyer —“

The bomb went off.

The assembly boiled over, soldiers shouting, turning to their neighbors and then to Command, demanding explanation, demanding a response.

”We received no further transmission from this ship. It’s crew have been declared KIA.”

The crowd began to surge. Cassian grabbed a hold of Jyn to keep her close as the soldiers around them moved. Jyn assumes that that would be it, but the Senator held up her hand.

There was more.

Everyone around them froze. What else could there possibly be? Their one chance at victory was gone!

”Early this morning, an operative reported in to Alliance Command with the news that the Empire’s weapon, the Death Star, fired upon the planet of Alderaan. The planet was —“ She paused for the briefest of breaths. “The planet was destroyed.”

All of the air went out of the room. 

Jyn felt her knees give way. Cassian caught her.

Alderaan. Destroyed. They’d done it. Not just cities. An entire planet. Gone.

She was surprised that there were no tears in her eyes. Maybe she was too shocked to cry. She felt like she had been punched in the gut.

”What do we do?” she heard people around her cry out. “What now?”

She thought she might vomit. Two bombs in two minutes. Alderaan — gone.

The senator was saying something else but no one heard it. Other people had managed to find tears. Some were simply standing in silent shock. A few were angry, raging loudly against the news. And Jyn was breathless, held upright by Cassian.

She looked up at him. His face was unreadable. On the exterior he was cool, collected. But when he turned his eyes to hers, she saw that he was about to collapse.

She was shaking, and it felt like Cassian was shaking, too. Jyn looked up, saw that Command had begun filing out. Their faces... they looked as helpless as the rest of them.

_What do we do now?_

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t see. Her vision had gone black around the edges. The noise around her became static, and then her ears began to ring. Her vision came back, but she wasn’t seeing the Great Hall. She was seeing Jedha City — blown apart, bedrock in the sky, the horizon lifting, folding over, trying to swallow them —

“Jyn. Jyn!”

Someone was shaking her, calling her name. She knew the voice. It had called to her before, on Jedha. It had saved her before...

The world snapped back into place.

The first thing that came into focus were her hands, white-knuckled and gripping someone’s arm. She released it, tried to back away but stumbled. The arm reached out and caught her. She was pulled in towards a body, felt a hand cradle the back of her head, and her cheek lay flat against coarse fabric. She could hear a heartbeat, steady and strong. She focused on it, clung to the sound, and slowly her breathing eased, and her vision cleared.

”Cassian?”

”I’m here,” he murmured. “You’re alright.”

Something bubbled up in her chest. Her lip quivered and tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them away, but more came. She clenched her eyes shut to make them stop.

All of their work, their sacrifices — all for nothing. The plans were lost, taken back by the Empire, and now... now their weapon was fully-functional. An entire planet, gone. Millions of people, wiped out in the blink of an eye. Where was their hope?

Shattered into billions of pieces like the stones of Alderaan.

 

* * *

They were silent as they left the Great Hall.

Cassian had turned down the hall that led to the officers quarters, but Jyn hesitated, stopping and letting her hand fall from his. He turned and frowned at her.

”I—“ She swallowed. Her ears were ringing again. “I need to...”

He reached out for her hand, but she took a step back. His frown deepened.

Her heart was racing. Her vision was going black around the edges again. “I need to think,” she said. “I can’t—“ She shook her head. “I just need to be alone right now.”

His normally masked face was wide open, and she saw it very clearly when his heart shattered. 

“Jyn—“

”I’m sorry,” she whispered before turning and walking away as fast as she could. She felt his eyes boring into the back of her head, and she tried not to think of how he had looked, standing in the middle of the hall with his hand outstretched, waiting for her to take it, and how she had left it empty so that she could run.

* * *

 

The hangars were empty.

It would be easy, she thought as she walked through the ghost town, to steal a transport. Every single ship was there, open, awaiting their next mission.

They had been ready to give up before. The thought was bitter in her mouth. When they had first learned about the Death Star they had been ready to surrender. So what now? Now that it’s power had been realized, what would they do? Defeat had been etched on every face. There was no chance now. No hope.

 _Hope._ The word made her stomach churn. She had believed in that word once, for the briefest of moments. It had taken her far, to the edges of death, and she had been willing to live with her survivors guilt knowing that something good had come from those sacrifices. But now...

She stared at the open door of a U-wing. Everything inside her screamed  _Run. Run far, run fast._ She gripped the edge of the door, put one foot inside, but something held her back. She immediately squashed  it down, refusing to even examine it long enough to give it a name. It already had one. And she refused to think about that.

_Him._

She shook her head and hauled herself into the ship.

_Run far. Run fast. Run NOW._

”Jyn Erso.”

She jumped and spun around. She didn’t recognize him at first, but no one else said her name like that.

K2 was standing a few feet away, staring at her. She scowled at him.

”Go away.”

”Where are you going?”

”None of your business.”

”You have engaged in carnal relations with Cassian. Human emotions being what they are, there is an eighty percent chance that he now considers you his mate. If—“

She didn’t bother correcting him. She didn’t have the time.

”Did he send you to find me?”

The droid raised his chin. “No. I saw you and deduced that you were attempting to leave. Where are you going?”

She turned away and began rummaging through supply bags that had been left onboard. She wanted to make sure that she had a blaster. The memory of taking Cassian’s blaster from his bag before they departed for Jedha appeared in her mind. She stomped on it.

”Anywhere that’s not here.”

”I cannot let you do that.”

”Fuck off,” she spat over her shoulder.

”I am programmed to look after Cassian’s well-being. You are now considered essential to preserve his well-being. I cannot allow you to leave.”

She turned and gave him an icy glare.

”You can’t stop me.”

K2 took a step forward. “I do not understand you, Jyn Erso.”

”Maybe I don’t want you to.” She returned to looking for a blaster.

”Twenty-four hours ago you were unable to function properly without close physical contact with Cassian.”

She froze for a moment. “So?”

”I do not have sufficient evidence to alter that observation.”

”Fuck. Off.”

”I cannot do that. I am a droid.”

She finally found a blaster and spun, pointing it at him.

”I’m leaving,” she said.

K2 reached out faster than she thought a cargo droid was capable of and knocked the blaster from her hand. She stared at him in shock.

”You are not.”

”What do you care?” she snapped. “This whole Rebellion is about to be destroyed. I’m not sticking around to die with it.”

”I think that is a lie.”

”You don’t know anything.”

”I will alert Command that you are stealing a ship and going AWOL.”

”Go ahead. I’ll be long gone before they can stop me.”

”I think that is a —“

”Didn’t you hear?” She felt tears sting her eyes. “They blew up a planet! An entire fucking planet! We didn’t stop anything. It was all a waste. A fucking waste.”

”I believe that it would be in your best interest to return to Cassian’s quarters,” K2 said. “Physical contact with him will lessen the probability of a complete psychological breakdown.”

She dropped to her knees inside the ship, vision blurred by unshed tears. “It doesn’t matter, Kay. It’s over.”

”You are hysterical, Jyn Erso. I will escort you to Cassian’s quarters.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t stay.”

 _Run. Run far, run fast._ It played in her head, over and over. It was what she was best at. A survival instinct had been forced upon her so early in life. She couldn’t shake it.

”Jyn.”

She looked up and saw that the droid was holding out his hand.

”Let me take you to Cassian. You will feel better.”

She took a shaky breath and wiped her face, then stepped out of the ship. She didn’t take Kay’s hand. In her whirling mind, the thought of holding a droids hand was enough to send her into full blown hysterics. She didn’t think he would let her take it anyway, even if he was being unnaturally kind. K2 made sure that she was following, and they left the hangar, Jyn trailing slightly behind, heart pounding.

Kay was right, of course. Cassian  _would_ make her feel better. But she worried now that his touch would feel like a cage. She was bloody  _scared._ She could admit it. The frightened thing in her chest screamed louder and louder the closer they got to his room.

_Run. Run far, run fast. Run!_

It wasn’t until they arrived at his door and it slid open that the voice was silenced.

He stood there, staring. His eyes were red.

”I’m sorry,” she breathed, and he reached out and crushed her to his chest, holding her so tight she couldn’t breathe.

”I thought you were gone,” he said into her hair.

”She almost was,” said Kay. “I stopped her.”

Cassian pulled away and looked into her face, cupping her cheeks between his hands, brushing her hair back off her forehead, searching. He managed to pry his eyes away long enough to nod at K2.

”Thank you.”

The droid nodded back. “I have reached the conclusion that Jyn Erso is necessary to preserve your well-being.”

Cassian’s lips twitched and he looked back down at Jyn. “She is,” he said softly.

Her breath caught and shame flooded her heart. “I’m sorry,” she said again, feeling like she’d never be able to say it enough. She had been going to leave him.

 _Do you still want me?_ he’d asked her yesterday. The real question was if he would still want her. He didn’t deserve the mess that she was. He needed someone that would stay.

”I will leave now,” announced K2. “It is best that the two of you engage in some form of physical intimacy. It appears that that is calming for you.” He didn’t wait for them to respond before walking away.

Cassian pulled her into the room and shut the door. He stepped towards her then hesitated, like he was waiting to see if she would bolt. She bit her lip and looked down at her feet.

”I was scared,” she whispered. “Running is what I’m good at it. I didn’t—“ She clenched her fists, trying to be brave enough to talk about it.

”If I hurt you then I’m sorry,” she finally managed. “I was being selfish.”

She kept staring at her shoes. She was afraid to look at him.

”Jyn.”

”I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I just —“ She furiously wiped away the tears that had formed at the corners of her eyes.

”I don’t know how to do this.”

He laughed, harsh and short. “And you think I do?” He have her a hard look, frustration clear on his face. “You think I’m not afraid? You think you’re the only one who feels like it was all for nothing? You weren’t the only one on that beach, Jyn.”

She tried to turn away, but he caught her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his eyes.

”You’re not alone anymore,” he told her. “You don’t have to run anymore.”

She pushed his hand away. “What’s the point?” she demanded. “Why should we stay? It’s over, Cassian, the Rebellion is over —“

”No it’s not—“

”It is!” She backed away from him, tears running freely. “They’ve won! Jedha, Alderaan — they’ve won!”

”Jyn—“ He went to her and gathered her in his arms, and she didn’t have the strength to fight him. She sunk to the floor, and he went with her, holding her as she wept.

”I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I won’t leave. I won’t leave, I swear. I’m just scared. So scared.”

”I know,” he told her. “I am too. But I’m not leaving you.”

”We should have died,” she whispered.

”But we didn’t.”

She buried her face in his chest. “I don’t know if I can do this. If I can live with it.”

”You can. We will. For them.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re getting close to the end here, people. I’m still not entirely sure how this ends, but I promise that it will be happy. Promise.


	8. Gimme Something Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _”All my life been shaking, wanting something, holding everything I had like it was broken... gimme something good.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RATING: M — This chapter contains mature content.
> 
> Please enjoy.

She became fire in his arms.

Jyn had been sobbing, had been unable to speak through her tears. He had held her, hadn’t known what else to do besides simply  _be there._ They were in the same place they had been only days before. So he had tried what he’d tried then: he kissed her. Kissed her forehead, her cheeks. Kissed her eyes in the hopes that it would stop her tears. And she had turned her mouth up to his, her lips trembling, and kissed him back.

At first she was shaking so bad that her mouth slipped away every few moments. Her tears were hot against his cheeks; he could taste them on her lips. But then her hands gripped the front of his jacket, and she pulled herself up so that her chest was flush with his. His arms tightened around her, his hands splayed across her back. Something had shifted in him, some kind of lock had clicked open. Pain, black and vicious, seeped through. He was hurting as much as she was, he was just better at controlling it. But her hands went to his shoulders, then to the nape of his neck, fingernails dragging along his skin, and he felt a chasm yawn wide inside his chest. He wanted to pull her into it with him, so that they could disappear together. His cheeks were wet, and he was dimly aware that they were  _his_ tears. So he opened his mouth, and she breathed him in, and he was lost.

She burned against him. He could feel her pain on his tongue, sharp and hot. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her closer. He felt the blackness creep into his mind, a guilt so strong that he thought he would suffocate, and he set his teeth into her bottom lip, hoping that the noise she would make would pull him away from that gaping wound. And it did. She gasped, a whimper was breathed into his mouth, and he felt the darkness ebb. She would push it away. He just needed her. Needed her like his life depended on it.

Maybe it did.

”Cassian,” she whispered between breaths. “I need —“

He pulled away to meet her eyes. They were wet, red-rimmed. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips were swollen, parted slightly as she breathed. She looked beautiful, agonizingly so. His heart was pounding in his ears.

”I need you,” she said, her voice small. She sat up, and he shifted so that she could straddle his lap. Her pelvis rolled, and he gripped her hips in a vice, holding her still. The room was spinning.

”Jyn—“

”Please,” she urged, bringing her lips to his. Her mouth was hot, insistent. She bit his bottom lip, and he groaned. She needed him. She was  _begging_ him. She was a pillar of light in his arms, burning like a sun, fueled by a core made of the same darkness that burned within himself. He took a shaky breath, feeling like he was standing on the edge of a precipice.

The abyss beckoned.

He opened his eyes. Jyn was watching him, waiting for him to answer her.

Was she on the other side of the chasm, or inside it?

He brought his hand to her cheek, ran his thumb across her lips. Her eyes closed.

He threw himself in.

His mouth crashed onto hers. She buried her fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots as he pressed his lips along her jaw, to her throat, to the spot just beneath her ear. She gasped when he bit down on her pulse, touched his tongue to her skin. He pulled her shirt from her pants, hands spreading across the bare flesh of her lower back. She repeated the gesture, pushing his jacket from his shoulders, grasping at the hem of his shirt until he separated from her long enough to pull it over his head and toss it away. Her touch danced across his chest, over his shoulders, nails pressing into his back. She removed her vest, reached down and lifted her shirt. He helped her take it off, his hands running up her sides and then back down as she resettled on his lap. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra. He slipped the straps down her arms and pulled it away. She didn’t give him the opportunity to look. She erased the space between them, pressing herself as close to him as she could get. His lips trailed down her neck as he slid his hands up to cup her breasts. She sighed out his name, her palms resting on his head like a blessing. He kissed the place above her heart, breathed her in, wrapped his arms around her waist and groaned at her feel of her nipples, hard as pebbles, against his chest.

She was on fire. Her touch scorched his skin and set his body ablaze. She burned away the darkness that had taken root in his soul, her heat stripping away the pain he had been carrying for so long. She left him clean.

He tried to tell her with his body, his touches less demanding, more reverant. He needed her to know that she made him whole, that her brightness healed the broken parts of himself. He wanted to show her that he needed her, that he loved her. Because he did, he realized. He loved her. And she needed to know, because maybe he could heal her, too.

”Jyn,” he murmured against her skin. She hummed, moving her hands across his back, pulling his head down to her breasts. Her hips ground against him, and his mouth fell open, eyes clenching shut. He needed her to listen. His hands went to her hips with the intention of stilling them, but she had picked up a rhythm, and he found himself helping her move. His head fell back, and she peppered kisses down his neck, teeth sinking into his earlobe, tongue darting out to taste him. It sent shivers across his body.

”Jyn,” he tried again, unable to find the will needed to slow this down. She kept moving, and if she didn’t stop he was going to —

He gripped her hips and pushed her back. She opened her eyes, staring at him in confusion. He took a few deep breaths, trying to rein himself in.

”What—?” she began, and he shook his head. He cupped her face in his hands, pressed his lips to her forehead, then pulled her close.

”Nothing,” he said into her hair. “I just—“

She pulled back, wrapped her arms around herself, covering her breasts. She made to climb off of him, but he held her there. He took her hands and pressed kisses to her palms, her fingertips, before kissing her mouth. She was hesitant, and she wouldn’t kiss him back. He sat back, watching her face. She wouldn’t look him in the eye.

”Jyn—“

”I’m sorry,” she blurted out, covering herself again. “I didn’t mean to push you. I just— I need—“

She looked like she was about to cry again. Cassian ran his hands up and down her arms, trying to calm her.

”You’re fine,” he said. “I — I want you too —“

She glanced up, and he bit his lip.

”I’m not good at this,” he said lamely, hoping that she would at least smile. But she didn’t, and he sighed.

”I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to —“

”Why’d you stop?” she asked quietly. He took a deep breath. Her legs were still around him, and Force help him he was still hard, ready to go on with where they had been headed. She had to know, had to feel him. He hadn’t  _wanted_ to stop, but he’d had to. He had to tell her.

”I wanted—“ He ran a hand over his face, trying to find the right words. But they didn’t come, and he groaned.  _What was wrong with him?_

He knew what was wrong, of course: all of the blood that should have been in his brain was in his cock. She still burned, but her fire was dying, and he scrambled to keep it alight.

”I just wanted to say something,” he said, feeling like an idiot. He had a fucking beautiful woman on top of him, topless, asking him to fuck her, and he suddenly decided that he had to talk about his feelings. Something was definitely wrong with him.

”Well say it,” she snapped. She still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

”I—“

_Oh for fucks sake, Andor!_

He clenched his jaw, then threw all caution to the wind.

They’d probably be dead soon, anyway.

So, before the blackness could come pouring back in, he gathered her in his arms and pressed his forehead to hers, and whispered against her lips, “I love you.”

She froze. He slowly pulled back enough to see her face. She was finally looking at him, and her eyes were wide and unblinking, her lips parted in a silent gasp. She looked as shocked as he felt.

”Oh,” she said.

He waited for her to say something else, but she didn’t. She just kept staring. He shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, and she climbed off of him, turning away. He wished she hadn’t moved. He wished he hadn’t said anything.

”Jyn?” He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. She didn’t pull away. He took that as a good sign.

Carefully, he moved so that he could pull her back against his chest. She didn’t resist. The fire seemed to have gone out of her. He needed to find a way to rekindle it.

”I’m sorry,” he said, even though he wasn’t. She dug her fingers into his arms, hard enough to bruise.

”Don’t,” she said. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”

He opened his mouth, about to ask her what she meant, but she turned in his arms and fixed him with a fierce look. He recognized it — she was scared of what she was about to do.

”I think—“ She took a quick breath. “I think I love you, too,” she said in a rush, and then blushed from her breasts all the way to her hairline. Cassian watched it climb her skin in a daze.

”Oh.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, or possibly for a few hours — Cassian wasn’t really sure. His mouth had gone dry. There was a distant thought worming around in his brain, something that was important. Something he had been worried about.

He’d think about it later.

Right now, he wanted to kiss her, and maybe get back to what they had been doing before he had opened his mouth. He wanted her to burn again.

And then he recognized the thought that had been bothering him, remembered why they had gotten to that point in the first place: Alderaan. The Death Star. The plans — gone.

He saw in her face that the same things were whirling around in her own head. The thoughts clouded her eyes. He took her hand and squeezed it.

”Hey,” he said, and her eyes refocused on his. He gave her a small smile, and she returned it.

”Okay?” he asked. She nodded, and then shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. He jumped up and pulled the blanket off the bed and put it around her. She thanked him quietly. He sat down next to her, feeling rather out-of-body. He’d never told anyone he’d loved them before. He’d never  _been in love_ before. He hadn’t even known he was until — well, he  _was,_ and he had been honest about it, and she had gifted him with her own confession. He held it in his hands like it was the most vulnerable thing in the entire galaxy. And maybe it was. He looked at her, saw the war going on behind her eyes, and he knew — they could both go running at any point, from fear of the Empire, or of themselves, or both.

 _But I won’t,_ he thought.  _I won’t leave her._

Her hand appeared from under the blanket, reaching for him. He took it.

”I won’t say I’m not afraid,” she said, staring ahead, “because I am.”

She could have been talking about the Empire. She could have been talking about loving him. It didn’t matter.

”Me too,” he told her. She sighed, and turned her head to look up at him.

”Are you cold?” she asked. He shrugged.

”I’m alright.”

But she opened the blanket, and he pressed against her side as she wrapped it around his shoulders. She was warm again, and soft.

”I’ll warm you up,” she said, her voice as warm as her body. He closed his eyes and sighed as her hand came to rest on his chest.

”Careful you don’t burn yourself,” he said, and she straddled his lap and closed the distance between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are never expected but always appreciated. Thank you for reading!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @kotaface for previews of future chapters, tiny drabbles, or just to chat!
> 
> Later!
> 
> ~Avey


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